In a House Of Cards
by Snickerdoodle213
Summary: Izuku has always been a loser. In a world based on brute strength, why would he, a quirkless zero, try to elevate himself? Yet, when his life becomes entangled with the king and queen of the club suite, everything he previously believed gets altered. (A au where the world functions like playing cards.)
1. In a House of Cards: Prologue

_**The Number Cards.**_

_** The Jack. **_

_**The Ace.**_

_** The Joker. **_

_**The Queen.**_

_**The King.**_

Considered the best, the card's list is composed of students who exhibit extraordinary skills in combat, intelligence, and supernatural strength. If selected to be a member of the list, the contenders have the opportunity to be a face card. The five faces are the elites of the card's list, and if chosen, those exceptional individuals become the mascots of their team. As a result of the face cards receiving the most attention, an abundance of opportunities is available to them than to those who are numbers. (such as full-rides, free meals, unlimited movie-tickets, and better career opportunities…)

At a young age, children are pressured by society to become one of the face cards. During primary school, they are programmed to be the best, to diminish those who are weaker than them. This social hierarchy led to the death of unity within Japan; for many years, no one attempted to fix the problem. Then one day, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a self-proclaimed _Hero _emerged.

A sturdy man with hair of gold, and eyes ocean blue, devoted his time to protecting those incapable of doing so. He was mighty with a heart of gold; his generosity melted the hearts of many and inspired others to follow in his footsteps. Out of desperation to keep the social hierarchy intact, the government passed a law opposing acts of Heroism. Although it was illegal to commit vigilantism, the blond hero's acts of kindness still resonated to a small portion of Top-tiers. To the percentile who always believed, they carried on the flame of the hero, who in the community, was remembered by the alias: All Might.

—

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first Boku no hero fanfic. I hoped you enjoyed it. I posted this story on my other social accounts, so if you find my other accounts, make sure to tell me. :-)


	2. Chapter one: In which Midoriya is late

**Rules of the card:**

_No. 1__**: In every high school, there are four branches to represent a complete set of cards. Therefore, every student has to attend their selected academies for four years. Each division is in accordance with the grade levels. First-year students join the suit of Clubs; Sophomores enter the suit of Diamonds, Juniors, Hearts, and Seniors, Spades. To determine who is best for the card's list, each scholar competes to be a contender for their branch in a tournament. Based on the outcome, the top fourteen will be chosen from each suite to create the perfect house. **_

— ️ ️

_Izuku was a descendant of royalty._

Not literally, but metaphorically, he was. Similarly to his grandfather, Izuku's dad, Toshinori Yagi, reigned over U.A. during his youth. Many presumed Izuku as fortuitous, in that, due to his alumni father, who now served as a teacher for the school-of-choice, he was able to get accepted to the prestigious institute through a recommendation. However, that idea was inaccurate.

Izuku had to uphold his family's name through academics alone. He didn't bear Toshinori's gifts of speed and brute strength, nor could he be an adversary for the title of King. Izuku was born a quirkless nobody; Someone who was weak and fragile. One who understood that calculations were the only way to prosper. So he did what was required, running with his tail behind his legs, recoiling like a coward if the situation called for it. In the end, Izuku was very unfortunate; a troublesome burden brought into a respectable lineage. He was unworthy of encompassing the potent lions of U.A. when he was an antelope.

"Sorry, your face is so repulsive I thought my food would make it look better!"

"What did you say, bastard?!"

_That was Izuku's hand in the game of life._

In the middle of the cafeteria, a group of teens gathered around two pupils— those watching growing intrigued from the commotion. At the front of the assembly, with a full view of the dispute, Izuku stood, his trembling hands gripped firmly to the acrylic lunch tray. Being the coward strategical expert he was, Izuku tried to avoid fights. They caused too much raucous when he was trying to enjoy his meal in peaceful solitude. At U.A, this type of physical confrontation occurred daily. ( Frankly, it annoyed the young teen. Would it be too much to ask for one day where the lunchroom wasn't a battleground?)

Usually, Izuku would make a mad dash to the soba line, then hurriedly find some vacant area to avoid the conflicts. Be that as it may, no one can predict when nature will send for you, tempting trusted bladders to break under pressure and throw those off-schedule by ten minutes. Now, he was witnessing the drama unfold.

"Wow, ugly and death. You give first years a bad name, Mr. Joker." A disdainful voice, belonging to a semi-cynical, blue-eyed blond, ridiculed the angered teen towering over him. Gritting his teeth spitefully, the disgruntled one wiped miso off his face, his eyes radiating a murderous intent as he did so.

"Would you like to repeat that, wannabe? I'll kill you!" He spat venomously, glaring daggers at the male in front of him. Emitting a crazed laugh, the blue boy jabbed a stubby finger in the impetuous ones' chest.

"Dishing petty threats, I see. Face cards are so simple-minded, then again, I guess you're all bark and no bite…" Brandishing a smug smirk, the boy cocked his head to the side. "After all, weren't you the one that said you'd be king at the clubs' suite? What a failure."

Izuku felt like shooting himself. It seemed that lady luck had some vendetta against him. That was the only conclusion that made sense to the freckled boy. After all, what were the chances that the one day he happened to be late for lunch, Katsuki Bakugou and Neito Monoma were at each other's throats?

Formally the joker of his junior high (at least, that's what Izuku heard from rumors, he couldn't confirm the integrity of this claim.) Neito entered the tournament and didn't place as a card.

Though not a member of the list, Monoma was revered among the student body for being the president of the newspaper club. Esteemed or loathed, no one could debate that Monoma was courageous. He informed the masses of scandals happening around the campus and religiously tackled editorial articles about the face cards. (Recently, he focused on the Club's suite in his writings.)

The infamous wild card, Bakugou Katsuki, was the previous king of Aldera junior high. Being from the campus, Izuku had experienced his reign. (All, he could recollect being displeasurable memories, but from his acquired knowledge with the quick-tempered blond, he knew better than to irritate Katsuki.) Izuku's danger sensors we're tingling, warning him to flee before the situation escalated any further—

"You think you can look down on me like that, you damn bug?"

_Too late._

As a visible vein pulsated on his right temple, Bakugou's hand ignited a vibrant flare.

"I'll crush you!" When the roar escaped his mouth, Bakugou draws his arm back in a brute motion, swinging at full speed towards Neito. Monoma detected the attack too belatedly. Before the devious soul could register the strike, the front-hand slap collided with his fair face, igniting ebullition once connected with his skin.

With a scornful hiss, Monoma buckled over, the impact from the miniature explosion being too much to bear for him. Instinctively, Neito placed a hand on his cheek, hoping to mend the burning sensation he felt. Admittedly, He wasn't expecting such a powerful slap to come from Bakugou, but from the amount of discomfort he felt in his scorched face, he was undoubtedly mistaken. The aftermath left him speechless. He shouldn't have underestimated Katsuki's raw strength.

Picking himself up, Neito stood straight a ravenous look lingering in his frenzied eyes like a predator stalking its prey. Monoma craved to fight Bakugou. He was aching, dying to see what the face card had in store for him

"Is that," Neito cries, walking in a slow teeter. His vision, blurred from the discharge, seemed to be a remedy in comparison to his ringing ears. Monoma couldn't focus on anything. He saw doubles, voices from the crowd were muffled and distorted, (he should've gone to the nurse, frankly. However, Monoma was prideful; he wouldn't let anything deter him from this battle.) "All you've got, Joker?"

At the latter part of his sentence, Monoma swung, fist mimicking Bakugou's by erupting in a bright flare. With ease, Katsuki blocked the attack, covering his face with his biceps. A sly smirk grazing his features when he successfully executes his move.

That damn copycat, he couldn't even imitate Katsuki's quirk correctly. The power released from the combustion wouldn't hurt a fly. (Not to mention the size of the assault was pretty laughable.) He wasn't worth Bakugou's energy, let alone the right to look down on him.

"Someone as pathetic as you isn't worth my time," Bakugou states coldly, preparing his body for the next blow. Monoma blocked his face, attempting to predict Bakugou's next move. However, what he didn't foretell was the powerful, oxidized flare fixated in the front kick to his abdomen, sending Neito flying into the crowd. (Izuku was near the spot he landed, so it frightened him a tad.)

Monoma bit back the pained outburst while he clenched his stomach. He could feel the agony surged through his torso, making it physically unbearable to the blue-eyed male, and if it weren't for the individual who broke his fall, he'd probably have an injured back on top of all the other bruises.

With beckoning emerald orbs, Izuku searched for an exit; concern etched on his countenance. He had seen enough fights at the campus to infer what was forthcoming; it's like a domino effect once it begins. Two people initiated the match; another person, typically a friend of the initiator, joins the fray, inspiring a separate fight to commence nearby (Izuku wouldn't last three seconds once the chaos began.)

His search proved to be in vain as the masses, gawking attentively at the dispute, blocked the pathways to the exits. Worst case scenario, he could try to navigate his way through the crowd, hoping he didn't unintentionally aggravate any of his peers, or lose his meal in the process;

"Yeah, Bakugou, beat his ass!"

"What the hell, man, you don't have to be so violent, stop trying to assert your dominance."

"He should curb stomp Monoma for throwing food at him."

"Come on, Monoma. At least get one hit on that narcissist!"

The masses watching weren't shy to express who they were rooting for. Each party of the opposition instigated the dispute boisterously; Uncaring if the fighters heard them. With a sigh, Izuku closed his eyes, unwilling to watch the mayhem. He couldn't leave; there was no use in trying either. Most people surrounding him were itching for conflict. Any reason to get the attention drawn to them would be enough sedative to hit someone who'd accidentally bumped into them. It was too dangerous; Izuku would have to wait until the fight ended.

"That's enough." A loud voice cut through the crowd, making Izuku pry his eyes open. With a small smile, he allowed his body to relax. If it weren't for the relieving sentiment prevailing his emotions, he would've been just like the others; Frozen in place, fear enveloping his core as he stared at the only one who could render a group speechless.

Shouta Aizawa, his homeroom teacher, was notorious among the student body. Given the alias of Eraserhead by his peers, Izuku eavesdropped overheard from a member of the hearts suit that during their sophomore year, Mr. Aizawa expelled the club's faces for partaking in an unauthorized battle. Of course, once the word circulated, the houses began to fear him since the card's list were deemed to be untouchable. For him to do something thought impossible, that made Aizawa quite remarkable to Izuku.

"If you want to act like barbarians, I suggest you transfer to another campus. U.A. is a school of excellence; we have no room for delinquents." Aizawa states matter-of-factly walking in an uninterested manner towards the crowd. (Who responded by paving a path for him.) Katsuki stood calmly in his spot, a menacing scowl complimenting his sun-kissed features while his palms were tucked away in his pants pockets.

"You are not above the regulations, Bakugou. If you wish to fight someone, you have to get an authorized approval, just like any other student. Your title doesn't give you superiority." Taking his final step, Aizawa stopped in front of Bakugou; onyx eyes peering into ruby irises as he towered over the lean hot-head.

There's nothing Aizawa disliked more than students who violated the regulations, especially if they were a face card. Face cards were the leaders of the campus; their primary responsibilities were to uphold the rules; to be a role model to their pupils. And yet, here he was, stopping a fight between the club suite's wild card.

"I suggest you learn your place, or else, you'll be dismissed from your position," Aizawa warns sternly. At his words, Katsuki felt irritated. Bakugou was the Joker, a position bequeathed to him as a result of his placement in the tournament. Just what the hell made Aizawa think he had the power to revoke his status? He wasn't the principle.

Bakugou glowered in response. He wanted to put him in his place, and he would've done so if it wasn't for the look Aizawa gave him. Bakugou could've sworn the man was reading his mind; the cold, intense stare made the utterances retreat into his throat. With gritted teeth, Bakugou averted his attention to a place on the floor. Once Katsuki looked away, Aizawa turned to the crowd.

"There's nothing to see here, go back to your tables," He said, his eyes maneuvering to Monoma instinctively to check for injuries. Monoma had a severe burn mark on his cheek (second degree, if he had to assume how bad the blister may be.), and his clothes scorched to the point that he needed a new uniform. Though his abrasions were terrible, he, at least, wasn't bleeding.

Aizawa allowed a sigh to escape his lips. He was assigned to lunch duty today; it was his job as a teacher to protect the students of the campus, but instead of performing his obligations, he was trapped in a one-sided conversation with Yamada. Now, a student was hurt because of his negligence.

" Monoma, come with me, " he says, outstretching his hand while he walked to the blond on the floor. "I'll take you to the nurse." Neito looked thoughtfully at his palm, hesitancy lingering in his eyes. For a moment, he wondered whether or not he should go to the nurse. If he did, it would be a critical hit to his ego. He started the confrontation with Katsuki and lost the fight (which, in all fairness, would have been the outcome anyway. Still, he wanted to get one punch in before a teacher got involved.) However, if he went to the nurse alongside Aizawa, it would be editorial gold for weeks.

The thought of the latter prevailed over his pretensions.

Monoma takes Aizawa's proposal, using the teacher's help to lift himself from the ground. As he raised himself, Neito felt the agony grow within his stomach. With a wholehearted attempt, he tried to quiet his whimpering. Regardless, Aizawa heard him.

"Bakugou," He says placidly, eyes never leaving Monoma's anguished grimace. Though he doesn't show it, Aizawa felt sympathetic for the boy. There was a distinct power difference between the two of them, Monoma didn't stand a chance to begin with. "See me in my office after lunch." With a scoff in defiance, Bakugou acknowledged his request.

As Aizawa and Monoma exited, the crowd dispersed, gossiping about the incident while they returned to their tables. Shortly, the only one left standing from the crowd was Izuku. Sighing in solace, he began to walk away. Finally, Izuku was given a chance to enjoy his food away from the chaos,

_and out of Katsuki's sight._

Hands clutching his lunch tray tighter than before, Izuku turned his head to where Bakugou stood, curious if the hot-head left already. Upon contact, Izuku's question was answered. Ruby eyes scathingly peer in his direction, sending chills up the green boy's spine. Why was Bakugou staring at him? Did he do something wrong? For a moment, the two stayed in their places, eyes locked in an awkward stare. It was only for a few seconds, though, for Bakugou turned from Midoriya and stomped off. Before Izuku could fathom the situation, he felt a small vibration emit from his pocket. Puzzled, Izuku took out the device, balancing his tray in the unutilized hand.

_** Dad 💪**_

_** May 8th, 20XX 12:45 PM**_

_** Would you like to eat lunch with me today?**_

With a faint smile, Izuku responded.

_**Me**_

_**May 8th, 20XX 12:46 PM**_

_**I would love to. I'm in the cafeteria right now, but it shouldn't take long to get to the staff room. I'll see you soon! :-)**_

_**Read**_

_** Dad 💪**_

_** May 8th, 20XX 12:47 PM**_

Receiving a satisfactory reply, Izuku begins to leave the cafeteria with as much speed his legs could muster. As he walked, the exchange unraveled in his head. The young joker's glare engraved itself in his conscious. What did he do to him? The two didn't talk to each other, so he knew he hadn't said anything to anger him. (Even when they went to the same middle school Bakugou didn't speak to Izuku unless he and his lackeys needed a punching bag.) The look of hatred boiling in his fiery eyes was too passionate not to have been impending. But Izuku hadn't done anything to the former king. At least, not knowingly.

Shaking his head slightly, he subdued his thoughts. The only thing accomplished by his questions was confusion. Bakugou was complicated to understand. If he had, on the off chance, done something to him, Izuku would never find out.

(Perhaps...that was for the best.)

—


End file.
